The trespass of the wicked man
Most plainly testifies
That fear of God’s most holy Name
Is not before his eyes.

He cherishes the empty hope,
Although his sin be great,
It never shall be brought to light
And viewed with righteous hate.

The words he utters with his mouth
Are wickedness and lies;
He keeps himself from doing good,
And ceases to be wise.

While on his bed his thought he gives
To planning wickedness;
He sets himself in evil ways,
He shuns not to transgress.

While men grow bold in wicked ways,
And yet a God they own,
My heart within me often says,
“Their thoughts believe there’s none.”

Their thoughts and ways at once declare,
Whate’er their lips profess,
God hath no wrath for them to fear,
Nor will they seek His grace.

What strange self-flattery blinds their eyes!
But there’s a hastening hour,
When they shall see with sore surprise
The terrors of Thy power.

Thy justice shall maintain its throne,
Though mountains melt away;
Thy judgments are a world unknown,
A deep, unfathomed sea.

Above the heav’ns’ created rounds,
Thy mercies, Lord, extend;
Thy truth outlives the narrow bounds
Where time and nature end.

Safety to man Thy goodness brings,
Nor overlooks the beast;
Beneath the shadow of Thy wings
Thy children choose to rest.

From Thee, when creature-streams run low.
And mortal comforts die,
Perpetual springs of life shall flow,
And raise our pleasures high.

Though all created light decay,
And death close up our eyes,
Thy presence makes eternal day,
Where clouds can never rise.